Anything for You
by Nightgina
Summary: A romantic drabble, showing a different yaoi couple for each chapter. Some cute, some sad. For now, it's rated T, but that might change after a few chapters. Newest chapter: Zemyx
1. A RikuxSora

**Author's Notes**

Konnichiwa bitches. The name's Nightgina. This isn't my first time writing a story, but it sure as hell is my first fan fiction.

I tried writing a fan fiction once. It was brilliant. Sure, it had an OC, but hey, it was still cool. But then I wanted another OC. And then another. And then another. And this continued for a long time. Now, about 3-4 months later, I have over 30 OCs, only about 3 of the original characters, and nothing relating to the actual game in which it came from.

As you can tell, it was a total lost.

So I decided to start over. I wanted to write a new fan fiction, something that was really cool and awesome-like. But I had no ideas. I knew I wanted the story to be yaoi (oh fuck yeah!), but no actual story came to mind. So I decided to write a drabble, the idea spurred from some drabbles that I read and fell in love with.

At first I wanted to do an ABC drabble, but as my friend reminded me, that would be stealing the idea from someone else. Unfortunately, I already started the 'A' chapter. As I considered my options, listening to my music on my iPod, 'Anything for You', by Evanescence started to play. Then the idea came into my head. My chapter started with A, and so did the song. So that is how this drabble came to be Anything for You, with each chapter starting with the letter from the song. :3 ...

RikuxSora

**A **_is _for **_A_**rgu**me**_nt_s

The pillow couldn't block out the yelling.

"Fuck," I murmured, pushing down the cushion. This had been going on for 2 hours now. Taking a deep breath, I lifted an edge of the cloth and glanced quickly over to the bed table where my alarm clock sat.

10:32 PM. Scratch that. Three hours.

I covered up his head before Dad could finish screaming " – why do you have to be such a b – "

It isn't like this is the first time my parents have gotten into a fight. I'm not stupid. If Mommy and Daddy didn't have an argument every once and a while, then there would be no healthy, stable relationship. Any normal teenager can deal with that.

But Dad just _needed_ a whore. Because Mom just couldn't give him what he wanted, because my mother isn't pretty, smart, or good enough for him. Because Mom didn't wear shirts that barely covered anything, because she didn't wear skirts that barely reached her ass, because she didn't need a size DD bra.

Of course, Veronica could. Veronica likes to wear designer clothing that shows off her boobs. Veronica can't see her feet when she looks straight down while standing. Veronica knew how to put on makeup _just_ the right way, and style her hair _just _so.

Flashback 

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing!" Veronica squealed, pinching my cheeks with her fake long nails. She leaned down to do this, making sure to stick her butt out and show off her cleavage to me. "Oh, and look at his hair! You're just _so _adorable!" She giggled, messing up my spiked hair.

I've always been known for smiling a lot. Even when someone is making fun of me, I'm laughing along with them. Unfortunately for this woman, I wasn't feeling so gracious for her. "Yeah, that's what Mom tells me all the time. Have you met her? I mean, you _are _so close to my dad." I spoke calmly, snapping my head out of her hands.

Veronica twitched a little, but her smile didn't phase. "No, I don't think I have had the pleasure in meeting her." She spat out through clamped teeth.

Dad slipped his arm around her thin shoulders, pulling her to him. "Hey honey, how about you go into the kitchen and make us some margaritas, hm?" The slut smiled, her high heels clicking loudly as she strolled down the hall.

"This isn't he first time here, is it?" I growled, glaring up at my father.

His face clenched, returning my glare. "Listen, Sora, you just keep this our little secret, alright? Your mom doesn't need to know about Veronica." Pulling his hand out of his back pocket, Dad took out his wallet, slipping out two fifty-dollar bills. "You be a good boy now, okay?" He winked, holding out the money.

I snatched the money, stuffing it into my pocket. "Sure, whatever," I mumbled.

Sadly for Daddy dearest, I don't always keep my promises.

Present 

They're stilling screaming at each other. Once I heard something break. It sounded like glass, probably something expensive. I tried to push the pillow down more, ramming the cushion so hard on my head that it almost hurt. I slammed the covers onto my head so tightly that it made it hard to breathe.

I didn't do anything wrong. Isn't this what any good son would have done? Wouldn't a wife want to know if her husband was fucking around with cheap sluts? Wouldn't Dr. Phil have advised that I tell my mother? She needed to know; I swear to God, it was the right thing to do.

My pillow hit the opposite wall. I can't take this shit anymore. Quickly, I searched around my dim room for a shirt, trying my best to ignore the yelling from downstairs. Picking up a dark shirt, I threw it over my head, ran over to the window and slammed it open. I jumped into the nearby tree, the branches giving me small cuts on my bare arms and legs from my shorts. Disregarding my injuries, I dropped out of the tree and ran.

I'm not running away. I'm not running anywhere. I'm just running. Because maybe if I run fast enough, my body will just disappear, that maybe I can run away from the pain. If I run fast enough, then I can go back to a time where my parents loved each other. A time where we all loved each. A time when they didn't have to bribe me into keeping their dirty secrets, when we could actually _trust _each other.

The sound of my sneakers slamming onto the sidewalk somewhat comforted me. My throat burned, my legs ached, but I kept going. I couldn't think straight; my mind began to bump around from thought to memory and back again. My eyes became useless, my fingers sore from clenching my fists for so long.

After what seemed like a very long time, I fell to my knees, my breath hard and hot. As I sat there, all the pain that I had ignored while running exploded to my head. My lungs screamed, the organs seemed to turn rough and dry. Pain erupted from my legs, my face cut from the freezing cold air.

And I was crying.

I sat there for a while, my tears slowly dripping down my face, but I made no sound. Slowly, I tore my eyes from the ground to see where I was.

Riku's house. Despite my condition, a chuckle escaped my lips. This is just the place I needed to be.

The drive way was empty. Riku's parents are always out on business and stuff like that, so he's mostly home alone. Gently I pulled myself up, my body shaking slightly. I rubbed my eyes roughly, attempting to rid any sign of tears. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that Riku wouldn't be fooled, but would that really be a bad thing? Trudging over to the front door, I heard muddled laughter and voices behind the walls.

Luckily for me, the door opened almost silently. Peeking into the house, I found Riku lying on the couch. Flashes of light flickered off his perfect face, his perfectly calm face. Judging by the laughter leaking from the TV, he was watching a comedy, but I guess no one told him he was suppose to laugh at the jokes. His eyes opened in slits, as if fighting to keep awake. Sometimes Riku can't sleep, which is probably the case because he wore his usually pj's: baggy sweatpants and a bare chest. The glass table in front of him was littered with empty soda cans and junk food wrappers. Limply a root beer hung in his hand, which he lazily took a swing of every so often.

I found myself awestruck. As if just looking at my boyfriend seemed to erase my fucked up life. As if just staring at this god could fix my parent's relationship. What had made me cry just moments ago? Why did I run away from home?

Maybe if I touched him, nothing would hurt anymore. Maybe if he spoke to me, smiling at me, as if I was worthy of holding his attention, I would become invincible, pain becoming a bad memory.

The door was behind me. I leaned on the wood, pushing it softly until it whispered a click. Before I could stop myself, I slipped into the room, finding myself at the foot of the couch.

Finally Riku noticed his intruder. He gaze snapped over at me, shocked. Pulling himself up into a sitting position (or as sitting as he could get, being at such a lazy angle) he mumbled sleepily, "Sora? What're you doing here?"

I laughed a little, threading my fingers through my hair. "I just wanted to see you, that's all."

He eyed me, obviously recognizing that I wasn't telling him the whole truth. "At midnight? You came all the way, just to see me at midnight?"

I shrugged. "Well, yeah." I fell onto the couch, crawling my way up until I was resting on his lap. "Am I annoying you?"

Riku sighed, rubbing his forehead. "No, you never annoy me." His sleepy expression turned into a happy one as he stared down at me, softly caressing my cheek. We stayed like that for a while, just staring at each other. Then he suddenly stopped, as if he noticed something was wrong. "Sora, were you crying?"

I looked away. Obviously he would notice something was wrong. Especially if my face was only a foot away from him. Pretending that the comedy show had caught my interest, I murmured, "No, I wasn't."

His strong hand clutched my chin, forcing me to face him again. "I don't believe you. What's wrong?"

I tried to turn away again, but his grip was stronger than I thought. His sea green eyes stared down at me, making it hard to hide my emotions. "It's…it's nothing…"

"Sora."

"I mean it Riku. I'm fine." Why couldn't I look away from his eyes? I knew that if this continued, he would be able to see everything, everything that I couldn't tell him. Somehow I finally tore away from his gaze.

"Why won't you look at me?" He whispered, his hand releasing my chin, tracing his fingers along my jaw line until he reached my ear, which he stroked gingerly. "What's so bad that you can't tell me?"

My eyes shut tightly, finding it harder and harder to keep my mouth shut while he touched me. "I…I…" I chocked, trying to calm down. I didn't want to tell him. I don't want him to know what about the shit hole I live in. Sucking in some cold air, I finally whispered, "I can't tell you…just, not now…okay?"

My self-control broke there. I flung myself into his stomach, wrapping my arms around his waist as if I'd die if he weren't there. And maybe I would. Life without Riku was a child's nightmare, where you legs are frozen and the monsters can easily reach you, tormenting you with only their dark glare, their sharp fangs just inches away from your throat. The thought made me cry, weeping into the chest of my boyfriend like a weak little boy. And maybe that's what I am.

"It's alright," Riku spoke softly, rubbing my back as he pulled me closer to his body. "You're okay, everything's alright." I just nodded, still sobbing uncontrollably. He kissed my head lightly, his arms around me protectively.

I couldn't believe him. Not yet. But here, lying against the boy I love, it was so easy to believe. And maybe when I finally got myself home, nothing would be all right, but at least for now, I could pretend that I'll be okay.

"Please…don't ever leave me." ...

Well, that certainly turned out differently than I first thought. Jeez, I've never written anything so cute before. Though it is pretty sad. Believe me, not all of the drabbles will be so depressing. After all, the IDEA for the drabble was to be funny. God, I just can't follow my own plot lines…

This is also a lot longer than I originally planned. I just can't write a small amount of stuff. Seriously. One time we had to write a narrative in school that was suppose to be 2-3 pages long. I wrote one that was 5 pages. Though, thanks to my _awesome writing skillage_, I still got a good grade.

I also can't stay focused on something, either. . .;;

Anyways, for now this drabble looks like it'll be rated T, but some of the other chapters might be rated M material. Just depends if I feel like righting a lemon/lime. Though I can never be too certain about this stuff.


	2. N ZexionxDemyx

Yay!! The second of the drabble! Woot!

Okay, I tried putting in dividers for the last chapter, but it didn't show up when I uploaded. :( So sorry about that. So I'm gonna put 'oxoxoxoxo' to divide :D

Okay, this chapter will be lighter this time, I swear! And I'll try to keep that promise, because I'm writing this as I go. :3

**IternalDeath** – Hey cutie! Thanks for my first review. You make me feel all special inside XD

**xsynthie** – Yeah, Sora was kind of OOC. I made him into a pissy teenager X3 Hopefully I won't do the same to these characters, ..;; (Knowing me, I probably will)

**xoxoxoxo**

ZexionxDemyx

**N **_is _for **K**ni_f_**e**

Y'know, sometimes I hate Zexion.

Okay, slash that. Sometimes Zexion can just be a fucking asshole.

Said teen sits in front of me, his loose head only held up by his hand. Half of his face is covered by his silver hair, which only makes the guy look emo-er than he already is (though, if I said that out-loud then I wouldn't be able to walk for 2 days. And yes, this comes from experience.) His one eye that isn't covered by his bangs stares at me lazily. Light tapping sounds bounce off the table as he thrums his fingers against the wood, knowing it annoys the hell out of me.

I bite down on the eraser on the end of my pencil. Below me, a white sheet of paper reads: '1. ', waiting for me to fill in the blank. My brain jumps around a little, swirling together ideas that will hopefully find the answer. Since this tactic is obviously not working as well as I hoped, I chewed the eraser harder.

Zexion sighs, moving his hand from his cheek to his forehead. "Come on, Dem. _Rendezvous_. Spell the freaking word."

"I'm trying!" I whined, my pencil hanging from teeth. There was a small twitch on the corner of Zexion's lips, which translate to a smile for normal people.

Groaning loudly, I turned back down to the paper. Snatching the pencil from my mouth, I scribbled down my attempt. "Here," I murmured, turning the paper around to face him.

Leaning forward a little, Zexion scanned my word quickly. He gave another twitch-smile before saying, "Wrong."

"No it isn't, that's what it sounds like." I protested, tapping the document with my pencil.

"…you just spelled 'rondevo', which isn't even a word…"

"Well then how do you spell it, Mr. I-Know-Everything-Asshole?!" I mimicked, throwing my pencil at his head. And guess what? He caught it. Because he's an asshole.

"First off," he pointed the pencil at me accusingly, "There's a z in rendezvous."

"No there isn't. There's no way there's a z there," I stammered.

"It's an Old French word, don't ask me," Zexion shrugged.

I groaned again, collapsing onto the table. "That's it. I fail English. High school too. And life. Especially life."

"True," Zexion agreed, rubbing his chin in deep thought. I glared up at him. Suddenly he smirked, staring down at me flirtatiously as he said, "But you're one hell of a kisser."

I blushed.

Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that the jerkface is my boyfriend.

"Well, this is giving me an idea," Zexion said, his naughty thoughts still sparkling in his eyes.

"Great, what are you going to do to me now?" I mumbled, my head still leaning against the table. Memories of previous nights flooded through my head. Memories of strip poker, cameras, dares, all of which faulted by the boy in front of me.

"Motivate you," he argued, as if coming from him it had good intentions. I grumbled a protest, which came out in a series of gibberish. "For every word you get right, I'll kiss you."

My head shot up instantly, not able to hide my pleasure in his logic. As quickly as I was excited I glared at him, leaning against my hands. "There's a catch to this, isn't there?"

"Yeah, you can't spell for shit."

"Yes I can. F-O-R S-H-I-T."

"Good boy," Zexion smiled, reaching across the table and kissing my forehead. I pulled back instantly, surprised at his sudden burst of self-confidence. "What, you didn't think I was joking, did you?" he smirked once again.

"I…uhh…"

"Spell 'cat'."

"Are you serious?!" I laughed, rubbing my forehead. Looking up at him again, I could find no sign of sarcasm. "Uhh…c-a-t?"

"Right again." This time he kissed my left cheek, moving himself to a chair closer to me.

This continued for at least an hour, Zexion asking random easy words, me spelling them correctly (because I totally owned 2nd and 3rd grade), and then little-smart me getting kisses on my forehead, cheeks, chin, neck, hair, etc. Despite the nagging voice in my head reminding me of the upcoming spelling test that I'm 87 sure of failing, it felt way to fucking good to make him stop.

"Okay, final word," Zexion breathed, cupping my face in his soft hands. Almost smiling when I groaned, he commanded, "Spell 'sexy'."

Laughing again, I leaned against his hand as I spelled, "Z-e-x-i-o-n."

"Oh, cute," he replied, a tiny bit of pink stroked on his cheeks. "You are such a teacher's pet." Zexion pulled me forward, pushing his lips against mine.

Unfortunately, that Friday I boomed the spelling test. My teacher refuses to believer that I really was studying, it's just my boyfriend distracted me. For five hours. Zexion refuses to take any blame in the subject.

**xoxoxoxoxo  
**

Woot, I'm done! Man, I was finding it hard to keep in character. XD If I failed at that miserably, then tell me, please.

R&R people. I forgot to mention that last time, which I regret doing. I need reviews, because I have a low self-esteem!! D: (muhahaha emo-Zexion :3)


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